Chapter 73 - 72: A Yuan, How Could I Not Recognize You?
Chapter 73: Chapter 72: A Yuan, How Could I Not Recognize You?
Although she had been reborn with her memories intact four hundred years in the future, Qingyuan’s new beginning had been far from welcoming. As if trapped in a vicious cycle, her past life’s fate repeated itself—abandoned by her parents to become an orphan, her striking beauty only served as a magnet for trouble. But Qingyuan knew this was merely her starting line, not her finish line. She was determined to climb higher, to reach the highest pinnacle she could touch. Only then would more people see her.
Yet, when she actually became a multi-award-winning actress, a sense of emptiness lingered in her heart. No matter how massive her fan base grew or how resounding her fame became, something was still missing.
And in this very moment, she finally found her answer. From start to finish, she only wanted to prove herself to Shi Changying. She wanted her Empress to see her.
The hospital room was so quiet that only the chirping of birds outside the window could be heard. Shi Changying suddenly looked up, her gaze as sharp as a blade. It was a look Qingyuan was intimately familiar with—the piercing sharpness Empress Taichu only ever revealed when scrutinizing her court. When the Empress looked like that, everyone knew to steer clear of her formidable presence.
Qingyuan knew that by dismissing the others earlier, she had already tipped Shi Changying off that something was unusual. What if, in this life, her Majesty had already forgotten her? After all, the Empress had never lacked loyal followers. What if...
Qingyuan’s heart trembled. She didn’t dare to think any further. She simply closed her eyes, waiting for the final verdict.
Then, a warm touch landed on her cheek. The gentle heat seeped in, filling the hollows of her heart. Qingyuan’s eyes snapped open. She stared blankly as Shi Changying raised a hand and slowly cupped her cheek.
"So, it wasn’t a dream," Shi Changying said softly. "It’s A Yuan."
Qingyuan’s eyelashes fluttered. "A dream?"
"I dreamed you were sitting by my bed, singing to me. I don’t understand music, but it was beautiful," Shi Changying said slowly. "I just couldn’t remember which battle had just ended. After every war, you would always sing to me like that."
She never used flowery language. Her words were always plain and unadorned, yet they possessed an effortless power to break through a person’s defenses.
Qingyuan’s tears broke free once more like a burst dam. "Your Majesty!"
Shi Changying looked at her tenderly. "A Yuan, it’s me."
"I... I thought... I thought..." Qingyuan choked out, her words stumbling over one another. "I thought you... you didn’t want to acknowledge me, or... or maybe you had already forgotten me."
Shi Changying fell silent for a moment before replying in a gentle tone, "I would never, A Yuan. I watched you grow up."
Four hundred years ago, long before she had even rallied her troops and set out on the campaign to reclaim Meizhou, she had already heard the name Qingyuan.
Qingyuan’s vision blurred with tears. Usually articulate and quick-witted, she couldn’t string together a single coherent sentence right now. She could only murmur repeatedly, "Your Majesty..."
"Closing my eyes and opening them to find myself four hundred years in the future... it truly is a wondrous thing." Shi Changying turned her head to look out the window. "How could I ever forget you? Just a few days ago, I asked my dad if he had ever come across your name in some forgotten corner of a history book."
Qingyuan’s heart gave another violent tremor.
"My dad said no. The history of Jiuzhou is simply too vast; not everyone gets to leave their name behind," Shi Changying said softly. "But you are different. All of you are different."
Hearing this, Qingyuan couldn’t help but cover her mouth, trying desperately to suppress her tears. Yet, her body shook so violently that she couldn’t calm herself down.
Shi Changying lowered her eyes and asked softly, "A Yuan, what exactly happened back then?"
Qingyuan buried her face against Shi Changying’s legs. As her tears soaked into the fabric, her voice turned distant and ethereal. "Back then... it really was like a living nightmare."
Memories flooded back as time rewound to the year 1619 of the Jiuzhou Calendar, in Jin’an City of Meizhou.
Qingyuan had never imagined that the flames of war would reach Meizhou once more. This time, it wasn’t just the Tiele—who the Empress had previously hunted down all the way to the Western Continent—but also the red-haired, green-eyed Hong Clan. With the Tiele clearing the way, the two great Barbarian factions joined forces and marched into the picturesque lands of Meizhou.
Upon entering any city, they would initiate a merciless massacre. These Barbarians treated murder as a game. Wherever one looked, mountains of white bones piled high. The plum blossoms were trampled into the mud, and the rivers ran red with blood.
Qingyuan stood behind a wooden door, gazing at the distant plumes of smoke. Her expression wavered, her thoughts unreadable. A small hand gently tugging at her sleeve broke her trance. She turned around to see a little girl, barely ten years old.
"Sister Qingyuan," the little girl said, "we need to move. They’ll definitely find us here."
There were many others huddled in the room—all disciples Qingyuan had taken in over the years. They were supposed to become the inheritors of Meizhou music and opera, just like her, but now, everything was ruined.
"A Tang, take the younger girls to the next safe house." Qingyuan unwrapped her scarf and draped it securely around the little girl’s shoulders. "I won’t be going with you."
As if sensing her intentions, A Tang lunged forward and threw her arms around Qingyuan’s waist. "Sister Qingyuan, don’t go!" she cried out. "If you go... then we’ll go with you!"
The youngest children, barely five years old, felt their fear slowly overtaken by determination. "We’ll go with you too!" they chorused.
"So many people have gone. They said they’d come back, but they never did..." A Tang sobbed. "When we were running away the other day, I saw... I saw their bodies washing down the river."
It wasn’t that the children didn’t understand life and death. Because they had been born into a world torn apart by war, they understood it far too well—and that was exactly why they were terrified.
"A Tang, in times like these, those who march against the invaders are brave, and those who die for their principles are noble," Qingyuan said, gently stroking A Tang’s head. "But we also need inheritors. You must survive. Not to live in cowardice, but to pass down our culture and keep it alive until the dawn finally breaks."
A Tang gradually stopped crying as she listened. With her current knowledge, it was difficult to understand the full meaning behind those words.
"Don’t let Meizhou’s music die out. This is our culture," Qingyuan continued softly. "If you come with me and perish too, our music will vanish forever. Wouldn’t that give those Barbarians exactly what they want?"
Her Empress had once told her that no matter what happened, their culture must never be severed.
A Tang looked up, her innocent eyes filled with confusion. "But Sister Qingyuan... will the dawn really come?"
Qingyuan’s footsteps paused. "It will. That’s why you must stay alive. As long as you survive, there is hope. Run, A Tang. Run."
The concept of staying alive was, in truth, far heavier a burden than death. For the dead forgot everything, while the living had to bear it all.
Qingyuan knew that her title as Qu Xian made her a prime target. The leaders of both the Hong Clan and the Tiele had been hunting for her relentlessly. She could no longer hide. If her death could buy enough time for more people to survive, then it would be a worthy sacrifice.
She was no longer the frightened little child who only knew how to run away. She had evolved from an exile into a protector.
Draping a cloak over her shoulders, Qingyuan stepped out into the open, willingly exposing herself to the Barbarians’ sights to buy A Tang and the other children a fighting chance at life. The Barbarians, having scoured the city for her, immediately seized her and hauled her back to claim a reward from the Hong Clan General.
They forced her into a revealing dancer’s outfit and made her sing and perform like a common slave. As she danced, they clapped and cheered from below, bombarding her ears with their crude, unbearable lewdness.
"What ’Qu Xian’? In the end, she’s nothing but a plaything. Where’s all that supposedly esteemed virtue now?"
"If she wasn’t pretty enough to be offered to our King as a tribute, I’d have killed her ages ago. But before we hand her over, the brothers should get to have a little fun first."
"Hmph. That Empress Taichu hunted our clans to the brink of extinction back in the day. She probably never expected a day like this, did she? Jiuzhou is so vast—what’s the harm in carving out a piece for us Tiele?"
Raucous laughter intertwined with the music, looking like a scene from a demonic revelry.
But then, the atmosphere shattered. A blood-curdling scream tore through the air, drowning out the mockery. Her expression cold and detached, Qingyuan wrenched her dagger free and plunged it down a second time—straight through the heart. She didn’t let go until the Hong Clan General collapsed to the ground and ceased his violent thrashing, her hands trembling uncontrollably all the while.
It was the first time she had ever killed a man. And it would be her last.
Because in the very next second, countless sharp blades pierced her chest.